


Cusp

by merulanoir



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Inspired by Fanart, M/M, blowjob, fang kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 07:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16132802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir
Summary: Blowjobs and fangs don't mix, or do they?





	Cusp

**Author's Note:**

> This seems to have become my thing, writing fics for people who make amazing fanart. I noticed [Dread](http://dreadelion.tumblr.com/) had given a blanket permission to write stuff based on their awesome NSFW art. *blows kisses*
> 
> The fanart that inspired this fic can be found [here](http://dreadnsfw.tumblr.com/post/169088279560/geralt-turned-on-by-danger-and-eyeing-those-fangs) (extremely NSFW).

* * *

Regis’ smiles were something Geralt liked to see, a lot. He was watching Regis’ lips curl upwards in response to the appalling pun he’d just told, and the sight was making him fiercely happy.

The first time he’d seen the fangs, a heady understanding had taken him over; he’d known the vampire trusted him, a witcher, enough to show the most obvious mark of his non-humanity to him; what’s more, he’d done it in order to indicate he was feeling happy. Geralt had been left staring, and Regis had noticed, and he hadn’t seemed to mind. He had continued grinning, amusement mixing in with the initial joy, and Geralt had felt a swooping sensation.

After Regis came back and life settled into something of a routine, Geralt still went out of his way to make the vampire smile. Regis visited Corvo Bianco often, and it was better than anything to have him as a permanent fixture. Geralt hadn’t realized just how damn lonely he’d been for years until the feeling started to ease.

“Now, I understand the charming lady who has been visiting your vineyard has made her intentions quite clear?” Regis asked. His brows were arched teasingly, and Geralt huffed a laugh as he refilled their cups with more red wine.

“Lady Bonheur seems like a woman of the world,” Regis continued and accepted the cup with a nod. “I happened to overhear her yesterday when she got you backed into a corner. Who knew the young women of Toussaint were that straightforward with their desires?”

Geralt rubbed his neck. You slept with one woman and the next thing you knew, the whole of Beauclair’s high society was thirsting for you. Apparently bedding a witcher led to some serious rising in social ranks.

The latest endeavorer had been so blunt it had been a refreshing change. Geralt would have taken her to bed right there and then, had he not had a visitor at the moment. The woman had taken being let down with good grace, and promised she’d return some other time. Geralt had watched her go with a mixture of frustration and amusement.

“She was, yeah,” Geralt laughed. “I kinda liked all those ideas she had for the silk scarves.”

Regis’ grin widened. “My, and what made you decide against it? It’s not like you to turn down such an offer.”

“You were visiting me, Regis,” Geralt said and quirked an eyebrow. “Couldn’t very well fuck her when you could overhear everything. Or is that what you would’ve wanted?”

Regis feigned indecision before answering. “Well, there’s food for thought, that much is certain,” he said. He sipped his wine and then licked his lips, still smiling widely.

They often did this, teased each other in a way that was almost flirting, and still not quite. It had started when the hansa had still been a thing. Back then it had been a tentative way of finding common ground; a way to ascertain each other of their humanity. Only later had it started to develop into something deeper.

Geralt loved it. There had always been a _what if_ with Regis, and not acting on anything only meant they could go on fanning the fire. It was safe and so damn good.

Geralt chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Night was falling, and crickets were starting their nocturnal choirs in the nearby bushes. The summer had been warm and dry, but the approaching fall was promising rains and fogs.

Regis leaned forward. He set his cup down and crossed his fingers.

“It’s fascinating how much courting and the assorted rituals differ from place to place,” he remarked with the same tone. It was light, but with an undercurrent of something that tugged at Geralt. “In Toussaint, it is almost expected of everyone who wishes to enjoy intimate relations, to indulge themselves. It’s very liberal, compared to the North.”

“True. Folks don’t seem guilty about their escapades, either,” Geralt answered. The wine was humming in his veins, and the starry sky was beautiful. Everything felt as it should be.

“No, and it’s charming. Love and all its expressions should be treated as something precious, be they conventional or less so,” Regis said. He cocked his head, and something seemed to please him immensely.

Geralt smirked. “I remember you ranting about that. I wonder if vampires have an even more promiscuous reputation than witchers.”

Regis narrowed his eyes good-naturedly. “That is a good question, my friend. And all that still boils down to enjoying your life to its fullest.”

“I can drink to that.”

A pleasant lull in the conversation settled over them. Geralt stole a glance at Regis. He was looking better, less-haunted. The sight was familiar and comforting. Moonlight was painting everything silver and dark, and Geralt spent half a moment entertaining the thought of finally crossing over to his friend and seeing how it all would unfold.

He realized he was skirting much closer to the line in the sand than usual. Instead of taking a step back or forward, he could feel himself halt; he was suspended there, stuck admiring Regis' profile and content to feel the buzz of excitement without needing to leap into action. The first tendril of arousal was waking, a mere awareness of his body that accentuated the silence.

Regis turned his head and his expression shifted from relaxation into interest. Geralt couldn’t tell whether the vampire could see what he was thinking, or if it was some private thought of his.

Suddenly Regis smiled wider again, and the fangs glinted in the dim light. In his mind, Geralt saw them gently scraping along his neck, thigh, and finally, cock, and he realized he was staring at Regis’ mouth. Regis narrowed his eyes and Geralt saw black eyes track the rising redness on his neck. He looked away, faintly embarrassed. It was a game, but he was slipping.

Regis’ clothes rustled as he got to his feet, and Geralt felt a stab of dread. He just managed to turn his head and open his mouth to apologize, to stop his friend from leaving, but then Regis was leaning over him. He braced his hands on the chair and hovered over Geralt, mouth quirked up in amusement.

“What a discovery,” Regis murmured. The fangs flashed again, and Geralt felt a shiver run up his neck. He saw the sharp tips glint as a lazy smirk stretched across Regis’ face.

“And to think about all the things I could do with this newfound information,” Regis continued in whisper, bending down and letting his breath ghost over Geralt’s exposed neck. Geralt bit his lip in effort to stay still, but it was becoming hard. Warmth was creeping up and down his body, flushing the skin and sending his blood rushing.

“Regis,” he mumbled, and the vampire chuckled at how strained his voice was sounding. Then the fangs grazed his earlobe, and he let out a breath. Regis trailed his mouth slowly down his neck, and Geralt felt his satisfied grin.

“Witcher,” Regis hummed when he reached his collarbone and the chain of his medallion. “Turned on by danger, are we? Rather banal.”

“Come on,” Geralt rasped. He was having a hard time mustering up an argument, when Regis continued kissing and nipping his way down his chest before pushing his cool hands under his shirt and helping him out of it.

Geralt tossed the shirt aside and halted. Regis was watching him intently, still amused, but under that was something softer. He snapped out of it when their eyes met, and cupped Geralt’s chin. Regis pushed him back into the chair, until Geralt couldn’t back away anymore. Regis leaned down and closed the remaining distance.

His lips were cool like the rest of him. He kissed like he spoke, with thorough attention and immense experience. Geralt felt his cock twitch when Regis licked his bottom lip before nipping it gently. He let out a shuddering breath, and Regis smiled into the kiss. His other hand scraped down Geralt’s chest and then came to rest lightly on top of his erection.

Regis moved his clever mouth back into Geralt’s throat, biting down just hard enough to leave small bruises. Geralt moaned as he felt his cock massaged gently through his trousers. His own hands finally regained enough command and flew into Regis’ hair, just as the vampire sucked down harder.

“Oh, gods,” he whispered. “Regis, please-” His sentence was cut short when Regis bit him again, his hips bucking and fingers tightening in his friend’s hair.

“Geralt,” Regis answered, moving on to lick and nip at his nipples and drawing a breathy groan from him. “You are gorgeous.” Geralt felt Regis’ own hardness brush against his leg as the vampire made his way down. The feeling was like an electric shock, Regis enjoying this too made it that much more real.

Regis knelt down and mouthed over his straining cock through the fabric. Geralt’s hips bucked again, and Regis’ fangs flashed in delight. He plucked open the lacing and eased the pants down enough to free Geralt.

Regis hummed again, a satisfied sound, thumbing at the bead of precome. Geralt swallowed thickly as they locked eyes. Regis looked like he was enjoying himself. He let his mouth stretch into yet another lazy grin, and bent down to nuzzle Geralt’s thigh. Then he very slowly licked Geralt’s cock.

Geralt watched Regis’ fangs glide millimeters from skin, and he shivered. His cock was throbbing, and the feeling of Regis’ tongue felt like a punch to the back of his head.

Regis paused when he reached the tip, toying with the crown with his tongue. Geralt moaned and let his hands tighten in Regis’ hair. The vampire made a breathy laugh before taking him in and slowly swallowing him down with a hint of teeth.

Geralt pulled at Regis’ hair experimentally, and was rewarded with a heavy, satisfied sigh. Regis worked his mouth and Geralt felt his fangs ghost over him every now and them. It was stupid, but the sheer danger of it was making his gut go tight with lust.

Regis swallowed around Geralt and the pressure made the witcher’s vision blur for a moment. He let out a long, broken sound, which prompted Regis to repeat the action. Geralt heard his breathing grow ragged.

“Regis, I’m gonna-” he whispered, trying to warn his friend. Regis glanced at him, and his eyes told Geralt he’d be grinning again were his mouth not otherwise occupied. The sight sent a flare of heat into Geralt.

Regis’ tongue hit him just right the next time he swallowed and Geralt came, spilling himself inside Regis’ mouth. His fingers tightened once more before growing lax.

Regis hummed happily and swallowed. He pressed a kiss to Geralt’s abdomen just before the witcher dragged him up and kissed him messily. He could taste himself as he swept his tongue against Regis’.

Regis’ arousal pressed against Geralt as he settled himself more comfortably into the witcher’s lap. Geralt reveled in the feeling as he stroked his hands into Regis’ hair and then slipped them under his shirt.

“Oh, I will most definitely stand by what I said earlier,” Regis whispered when they parted. He was panting slightly, and Geralt realized this right here was a million times better than anything else.

“Wanna explore some more?” he laughed. Regis’ eyes lit up with delight and excitement.


End file.
